You Can Let Go Now, Daddy
by booknerd1994
Summary: After her father is diagnosed with a terminally ill, muggle disease, Ginny reminisces about her times with the man she loves dearly.


"_**You can let go now, daddy"**_

_Summary: After her father is diagnosed with a terminally ill, muggle disease, Ginny reminisces about her times with the man she loves dearly. _

As I raced down the winding corridors of St. Mungos, water and mud dripping off my Harpies uniform, images flash behind my tear-filled eyes.

_Wind blowin' on my face_

_Sidewalk flyin' beneath my bike_

_A five year-olds first taste _

_Of what freedoms really like._

It was fifteen years ago, when I had just turned five, that my father took me flying for the first time in my life. I remember it as if it was yesterday; the way I begged my older brothers to allow me just _five _minutes on one of their brooms, their hesitant replies after the glares of my mother, but with one look at my father, I knew I had him whipped.

Early in the morning on my fifth birthday, my dad came into my room while the rest of the house slept, gently nudging me awake. We crept down stairs, my hair still in its short, messy plait from yesterday. Once we made it outside, my dad turned around, putting a finger to his lips, but grinning mischievously. With a quick flick of his wand, Charlie's broom came soaring out of the shed, to stop right in front of me. I'd be lying if I said a squeal of delight didn't escape from my lips.

_He was runnin' right beside me_

_His hand holdin' on the seat_

_I took a deep breath and hollered_

_As I headed for the street_

"Now you must be quiet if you don't want your mum to see," he whispered once he had me sitting on the broom properly.

I gripped the handle, a fierce determination to prove my mother and brothers wrong, that I _could _fly, filled my mind.

I flew around, only a couple feet off the ground and with my dad holding onto to the back, for several minutes as I gained my bearings and got used to the experience of flying. In my short life, I realized I had never experienced anything as amazing as flying, and I told myself, that no matter what I do later in life, it must consist of flying on a broom.

_You can let go now, daddy_

_You can let go_

_Oh, I think I'm ready _

_To do this on my own_

_It's still a little bit scary_

_But I want you to know_

_I'll be ok now, daddy_

_You can let go_

Soon, I realized that I wanted more, I wanted to go higher. Turning around, I saw the delighted smile of my father, who knew he was giving his little girl exactly what she wanted.

"You can let go now, daddy," I smiled, pointing the broom to go up higher. "I think I'm ready to do it on my own."

I could see the hesitation in his eyes, but it wouldn't take me until years later to realize he wasn't scared of mum finding out he had left me fly by myself, but rather, he was frightened of letting his little girl go.

_I was standin' at the alter_

_Between the two loves of my life_

_To one I've been a daughter,_

_To one I soon would be a wife_

I continued to streak up the stairs, stumbling as my long robes caught underneath my feet and wiping hastily at my eyes, as another scene flashed across my mind.

It was a year ago, before the cough started, before the bruises started appearing, before the doctors told us of the diagnoses. I was in a long white dress, standing alone in my room, counting down the seconds until I would start the rest of my life.

There was a soft knock on the door and then suddenly my father was standing in the door way, staring at me as if it was the first time he'd ever seen me. We both smiled, rather shyly, as he crossed the room, pulling me into a tender hug.

"You look beautiful, baby girl," he whispered, squeezing me once before holding out his hand to me. "Are you ready?"

"I've never been more ready in my life," I smiled, grasping his hand.

_When the preacher asked,_

"_Who gives this woman?"_

_Daddy's eyes filled up with tears_

_He kept holdin' tightly to my arm_

'_Till I whispered in his ear_

The walk down the aisle seemed like the longest walk of my life, but I kept my head held high, my eyes only for the man who stood at the end of the stretch. I noticed, briefly, Hermione and Luna, in matching, dark red dresses, standing to my left, smiling at me and my father. To my right, stood Ron and Neville, both giving me a smile and wink as I blushed, squeezing my father's arm in anticipation. Lastly, I finally allowed myself to gaze upon Harry, the man who was soon to become mine, officially.

My father and I, after only seconds, reached the end of the aisle, where Harry finally turned around, looking at me for the first time. A smile I never knew he could possess, one filled with so much loved, graced his features as he stretched out his hand to take mine. That was when I realized my dad was not giving my hand to Harry; that he was not even looking at Harry at all.

_You can let go now, daddy_

_You can let go_

_Oh, I think I'm ready_

_To do this on my own_

_It still feels a little bit scary_

_But I want you to know_

_I'll be okay now, daddy_

_You can let go_

I looked at my father properly for the first time that morning and realized how difficult this was for him. Yes, Ron and Bill's wedding had been hard, but this was unbearable. How could he give away his one and only daughter? His little girl, whom he had loved so dearly since the day she was born?

Smiling sadly, the hint of tears just brimming my eyes, I surged forward to hug my dad, pulling him close so only he could hear.

"You can let go now, daddy," I whispered. "I'm ready to do this on my own. I love you."

Pulling back, I was shocked to see tears streaming down his face, the man who I had never seen cry in all my life. At my words, my dad nodded, kissed my hand sweetly, and placed it in Harry's, finally giving away his little girl.

I thought at that moment that he was finally done holding onto me, but I never realized, not until a year later, that he would always, until the day he died, be holding onto me.

_It was killin' me to see _

_The strongest man I ever knew _

_Wastin' away to nothing_

_In that hospital room_

"I'm looking for my father," I panted, reaching a healers station. "Arthur Weasley."

The young healer looked up, recognizing the name. She seemed to recognize me as my words sank in.

"Room 512, on the left," she said, yelling after me as I sprinted to the left. "He's waiting for you!"

"_You know he's only hangin' on for you"_

_That's what the night nurse said_

_My voice and heart were breakin'_

_As I crawled up in his bed, and said_

Shucking my long robes as I turned the corner, I finally reached room 512, throwing the door open, startling everyone inside. I was shocked, but not surprised, to see the wet, sad faces of my family. Everyone was standing around his bed, abstinently wiping at the tears streaming down their cheeks, but stopped to look up at me once I had entered. Realizing everyone, including my father, had been waiting for me, I raced the last couple steps, shrugging between my brothers and their wives, to reach my father's bedside.

When I finally pushed past Ron and Hermione, whose pregnant stomach made it very hard to get close to my dad, I saw him holding onto my mum's hand and staring into her eyes, smiling sadly at her tear-streaked face. The remaining red, wisps of his hair clung to his head in sweaty clumps. His face was sunken and hollow, finally showing the struggle that he has been enduring quietly for the past several months. Hermione had told us all that it was a muggle disease that was killing our father, one that had yet to be cured.

"Daddy," I barely breathed, moving out from under Harry's gently hand.

My dad, realizing I was finally there, turned to look at me. The smile that etched his face did it; it broke me. Sobbing, I climbed onto the small bed beside him, curling myself into his side. I felt his weak arms wrap themselves around me, causing me to cry harder into his neck. Around me, I ignored the soft cries of my family, only listening to the faint heartbeat of my father.

"I love you, daddy," I sobbed into his chest.

I pulled myself closer to my dad, putting my face next to his, hugging his neck softly, trying to ignore those around us, but it proved to be hard. My mum was crying into Charlie's chest, both clinging to each other sadly. Ron and Harry, each crying quietly, held onto a hysterical Hermione, while Bill and Fleur held onto a crying Teddy and Victoire. Percy and George, both grasping each other's shoulders, stared down, tears dripping off their noses and onto the floor.

In that moment, I realized what it was that I had to do. The scenes that had been replaying in my mind while I ran here were not ones to be reminisced, but rather, they me trying to tell myself what I had to do. It was my job to tell my father to go, because he would always be holding onto me, just like he did with the broom, just like he did at my wedding, and just like he was doing right now… he was holding onto life by a thread so he could see me.

"I love you too, baby girl," he wheezed, and with his words, I gained enough strength to actually speak.

Reaching his ear, I whispered brokenly, "_You can let go now, daddy. You can let go. Your little girl is ready to do this on her own. It's gonna be a little bit scary, but I want you to know… I'll be okay now, daddy… you can let go_."

I felt him relax against me, breathing deeply one last time, as I whispered, ever so quietly, "_You can let go_."


End file.
